


wager

by futuredescending



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless!Bottom!Harry, knickers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuredescending/pseuds/futuredescending
Summary: He couldn’t help it. “Are you...?”For a moment, Harry almost looked offended. “Of course I am.”“Well go on, then, prove it,” Eggsy said, slowly grinning. “Give us a show.”But instead, Harry arched a brow and stubbornly remained still. “That wasn’t part of the wager.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when I take a break from writing my KMBB. I don't even know.

Eggsy’s unblinking focus was rapt upon the stairs while his right foot tapped nervously against the floor. His lower lip was a mess from his terrible habit of chewing on it. He could barely sit still. The anticipation was supposed to be part of the fun, right?

But even he had his limits. “We’re going to be late, you know!” he called up the stairs. Nothing. He blew out a puff of air. “You can’t hide up there all day!”

Finally, the door to the bedroom swung open. “I’m not hiding,” came the peevish reply.

The old floorboards creaked as Harry’s footsteps trudged down the steps at the pace of a man walking to his own execution, the drama queen. Oxfords came into view first, followed by those long, long legs that seemed to make up about 90% of Harry’s body. From the first glimpse of the bottoms of his trousers, Eggsy could see that Harry had opted to wear his dark navy pinstripe suit today as if he had desperately needed to seek reassurance in the old classics.

Finally the rest of him came into view as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Aside from the annoyance on Harry’s face, nothing seemed to be amiss.

Eggsy waited.

Harry simply looked back at him.

He couldn’t help it. “Are you...?”

For a moment, Harry almost looked offended. “Of course I am.” 

“Well go on, then, prove it,” Eggsy said, slowly grinning. “Give us a show.”

But instead, Harry arched a brow and stubbornly remained still. “That wasn’t part of the wager.”

Eggsy’s jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously? Oh, come on! Obviously getting to _see_ was the whole point!”

“Really, we don’t have time for this. As you said only a moment ago, we’re going to be late.”

“You know I’m gonna get to see ‘em at some point today,” Eggsy scowled, “as per the second part of our bet.”

Harry shot him an exasperated look before he moved to fetch his coat. “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.”

Eggsy fell into step behind him, eyes automatically falling to Harry’s arse. He tried to look for some small hint or untoward line, but the hem of Harry’s suit jacket impeded his efforts. Bugger.

Fuck anticipation. Waiting sucked.

 

_____

 

Eggsy wanted to amend his earlier statement. Waiting didn’t suck. Financial meetings did.

Ostensibly, the whole purpose of the thing was to come up with a proposed budget for the next fiscal year, but it was just so _boring_. Merlin droned on and on about ROI, margins, discretionary funds, and blah, blah, blah. Why did he even have to go to these things? He was only supposed to be the guy who went in the direction of wherever he was pointed, kicked arse, and took names, and it wasn’t like they would even listen to him anyway. Aside from his initial input that they ought to up spending on weapons and tech (which was met with various eye rolls), Eggsy had mostly tuned out. Seriously, so boring. 

Harry, however, was very much focused on whatever was going on, poised at a slight angle in his chair to demonstrate his attentiveness, one leg crossed over the other, one elbow on the chair’s arm, hand to his chin and a finger relaxed over his mouth. 

The position, in fact, exposed a greater amount of leg and upper thigh. Eggsy narrowed his eyes and tilted his head just a little to see if he could discern an outline, _anything_ —

“Is there something going on beneath the table that we should know about, Gawain?” Merlin asked.

Eggsy jumped and looked up guiltily. “Uh….” A quick look around the room showed that he was now the centre of attention. Harry glared at him. “Sorry. I was just thinking about how hungry I was. When do we break for lunch?”

Merlin blinked and checked the time, taken aback by how long it had been. It’s not like Eggsy had been lying. It was coming up on two in the afternoon and his stomach was threatening to digest itself. “I suppose we can break for an hour.”

The table seemed to sigh as one in relief. _You’re welcome_ , Eggsy thought pointedly at them as he practically leapt from his chair in his haste to escape, but not before turning to Harry, ghosting a brief hand across the back of his neck and saying, “Can we talk in my office?”

Yeah, he had an office now. A proper one with a big desk, windows, and a door that locked, with keys only he, Merlin, and the housekeeping staff had. It’s absolutely fucking wild. Few years ago, he didn’t even have twenty quid to his name.

Harry got up and silently accompanied him through the halls the whole way from the meeting room to his office, apparently in no mood to strike up conversation. No, there was a crackling tension in the air between them that neither acknowledged. Harry knew exactly what Eggsy was calling him in for.

As soon as Eggsy shut the door, Harry turned to him and said, “You do recall the language of the second half of our wager was singular, as in one time only today.” He even held up a finger to visually demonstrate his point. “Is this really the time and place in which you want to cash in your chip?”

But Eggsy had been thinking about it all morning and didn’t think he could wait another God knew how many more hours until they could go home. By then, it was likely his brains would have liquidated out his ears.

“Oh, I’ve got a workaround for that, just you wait and see.” He smirked as he sat on top of his desk and folded his arms across his chest, unable to resist looking his fill now that he could, up and down the length of Harry’s very long, very fit as fuck frame.

Harry arched a brow in mild curiosity, but wouldn’t rise to the bait. Just as well, Eggsy thought as he beckoned him closer, that’d be happening soon enough.

After a moment in which Harry was probably wondering why he had even let himself be manoeuvred into such a position in the first place, he stepped closer and closer until he was within Eggsy’s reach, looking down at him with an expression that was similar parts curiosity, challenge, and, because secretly Harry was always a bit of a bastard at heart, affectionate amusement.

“Would you like for me to show you now?” he offered.

“Think I’d like to find out for myself,” Eggsy said, reaching out to spread his palms flat across the broad, hard expanse of Harry’s chest.

More than getting to have his own private office, though, was getting to have _this_. It never failed to give him a thrill, to be able to touch Harry, all possessive and proprietary, and how Harry always pressed himself into Eggsy’s touch like a spoiled pet, even now leaning into Eggsy’s hands through the finer veil of his annoyance.

Harry was just so, purely on a superficial level, _pleasing_. Elegant, beautiful even, from the distinguished lines on his face and grey at his temples to the wiry strength of his slender body and how he carried it, confident and graceful, moving as seamlessly as water through fighting and fucking equally.

Eggsy’s hand wandered down the planes of Harry’s chest, nimbly loosening the buttons of his jacket to skim over his torso, from that hard-earned flat belly to his alluringly trim waist, feeling the flutter of Harry’s abdominal muscles beneath the tips of his tickling fingers.

Instinctively, Harry pressed himself between Eggsy’s widespread legs and braced his hands on Eggsy’s hips, but still not quite close enough for Eggsy to get any sense of what was beneath.

Well, that needed to change.

Eggsy got to work pushing Harry’s jacket off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor with a hell of a lot less care than Harry would have liked. It predictably caused Harry to shoot him the expected disapproving glare, but Eggsy was too busy drinking in the way his crisp, white button down shirt had been tailored to every contour of his body in a glorious golden ratio of spectacular wank material. 

“I just fucking love looking at you,” he said reverently. “But I love touching you even more.”

And so he did, bringing his hands back up to Harry’s middle, stroking all that compact muscle beneath that fabric. Harry’s gaze darkened into a molten heat as Eggsy’s hands finally circled round and grabbed two handfuls of his very fine arse, squeezing, fingers skimming along the swells, searching for it….

His eyes lit up when they came across the slightly raised seam. Now that he had found the edge, his fingers could trace along the curve of them, up along Harry’s plush arse to his hips and back down again to the insides of his thighs. “There we are,” he breathed in wonder like a man who had stumbled across buried treasure.

“I told you I would,” Harry said, a small smile finally toying at the corners of his mouth. “I am a man of my word.”

“You’re a man with a great arse wearing a pair of knickers, is what you are.” Eggsy punctuated his statement with a final squeeze before he eagerly moved to undo his buttons and zip.

At first, it’s just more material of Harry’s tucked in shirt, but as Eggsy slowly pushed down Harry’s trousers past over his hips and more than halfway down his thighs...there.

Eggsy had picked them out himself, a playful dark teal silk blend, streamlined, nothing too frilly, cool and slippery to touch. It’s not like, well. It’s not like he had a _thing_ , alright? It had all begun as a bit of a giggle, even. A dare that he didn’t even think Harry would take seriously until Harry did, because Harry was sometimes too competitive for his own good.

And then Harry had been so put out when he had lost, half the enjoyment had stemmed from that alone.

But seeing Harry in them now...well. It’s doing something for Eggsy, alright. The cut had been described as _bikini_. They were maybe a size too small to account for the fact that Harry lacked curves in some places and possessed too much in others. They didn’t quite cover the fleshier bits of his bottom, but snugly cupped the delightful bulge of his half-hard prick. Eggsy was drawn to the indecent stretch of that material, slipping down to his knees between Harry and his desk to get his eyeful, breathing in the scent of Harry’s cologne mixed with the scent of _him_ , mouthing at that rigid blunt line and breathing out a hot cloud of breath to moisten the material beneath his lips.

He felt Harry shudder beneath him, his hands coming to a rest along the back of Eggsy’s head, gently cupping it.

“How do they feel?” Eggsy asked.

“Tight,” Harry said from somewhere above him, his voice more strained from its usual lilting ease. “Intimate. Like someone’s always touching me.”

“You seemed so unbothered during the meeting,” Eggsy almost accused and licked a stripe up Harry’s cock in payback, tasting not much more than the fabric of the knickers themselves, but producing a soft protesting exhalation and a small reflexive thrust nonetheless.

“With great,” Harry bit out. “Discipline.”

“Yeah, we’ll see bout that.” Eggsy swiftly rose to his feet and in a clever-quick movement worthy of at least an eight in any ballroom competition, neatly switched their places, turning Harry towards his desk and urging him to bend over it with a hand between his shoulder blades.

Harry went down with nothing more than a slightly protesting grunt, but his body relaxed beneath Eggsy’s hand. It put his arse right up against Eggsy’s painfully hard cock, which he happily flexed against.

Eggsy sucked in a breath of air between his teeth and rubbed up against Harry’s bottom, then fumbled to free himself from his trousers with little finesse. He moved the stiff underside of his cock against the crack of Harry’s arse in an attempt to find some friction but finding frustratingly little against the slippery fabric, leaving a wet, sticky trail in its wake. “Shit.”

“We’re down to,” Harry turned his wrist to glance at his watch, striving for cool but it was betrayed by the way he pushed back into Eggsy’s rutting. “Forty minutes. Now thirty-nine. You know you’ll never get to see me in these again. Don’t you want to savour the experience? ”

“Oh, I’m gonna be doing plenty of savouring. This here’s just a taste.” Fortunately, a Kingsman was always prepared, or maybe that was just Eggsy, his eternal optimism, and his overexcited fantasies. He wasted no time fishing the packet of lube from his back pocket and tore off a corner with his teeth.

It got messy, lube carelessly dripping down his hand and onto Harry’s clothes and his own, but it hardly mattered when he was singlemindedly focused on yanking Harry’s knickers down to just beneath the curve of his cheeks and pressing two fingers up into his arsehole without forewarning, drawing a melodious choked off gasp.

“Oh gods,” Harry squeezed around his fingers, trying to push back against them to greedily take in more, tight as a hot vice, as Eggsy thrust his fingers in and out, over and over, spreading them wide into a ‘v’ coax more room out of him, pinning them together to stroke over Harry’s prostate and produce that low, throaty moan Harry could make, sonorous and unselfconscious. “That’s good, Eggsy. That’s so good.”

“Harry,” Eggsy groaned, bowing his head to the tense line of Harry’s spine. “Harry, I need to….”

“Yes, _yes_. I want it, please give it to me,” Harry sighed breathlessly, pushing back onto Eggsy’s fingers again before adding, entirely too primly, “Thirty-five minutes. Do get on with it.”

“You’re still entirely too coherent,” Eggsy gritted out, before pulling out his fingers with a wet squelch and moving to his cock, slicking it up with several teasing, anticipatory strokes. He lined up the oozing head against Harry’s entrance, pressing, just a little, against the resistance there and shivering in anticipation.

“ _Do it_ ,” Harry said, impatience seeping into his tone now, pushing back with enough force to swallow just the tip of Eggsy’s cock and draw a startled moan from them both.

“Oh, shit, you bossy fuck.” There’s too much heat and pressure. It’s too easy for Eggsy to simply give in and press unbearably forward, sinking his cock in Harry’s tight, clenching heat until he’s in to the hilt, front of his thighs to the back of Harry’s legs.

For several long moments, there was only the sound of their heavy panting, then Eggsy gave a few slow grinds, rotating his hips, gripping Harry’s hips tight enough to bruise.

“Eggsy,” Harry slurred, lust drunk, hands scrabbling across the smooth surface of Eggsy’s desk as he sought and failed to find purchase. “You feel so, so….”

Eggsy concentrated on his voice so he didn’t come right there and then. “Yeah? Yeah, how’s it feel? Tell me.”

“It feels so good. You feel so good. Your beautiful fucking cock in me. I’m so full,” Harry babbled, turning his head to rest his forehead against the crook of his arm as he sighed and the tension left his body, swallowing Eggsy’s cock down an impossible half-inch more. “Please.”

“Please what?” Eggsy asked, because he’s a bit of a bastard himself.

“Please fuck me, you little shit.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Eggsy laughed and set to it, drawing back, pausing just long enough for Harry to shift impatiently, and then slamming back in hard enough to make Harry cry out and for his own bollocks to slap against Harry’s cheeks.

He didn’t stop from there, falling into a rough, hard pace of staccato slapping flesh, fucking in and out of Harry until he was forced to hold onto the edges of the desk to keep from being pounded clear across it. The waistband of Harry’s knickers rubbed up against the underside of Eggsy’s cock with every downstroke, and then again every time he sank back in, sending a sting of sensation along his nerves.

Harry tried to relinquish one handhold to reach for his cock, but Eggsy snatched his wrist and tutted. “Ah, ah, ah. No touching.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry stuttered beneath the rhythmic assault of Eggsy’s thrusts.

“You know what they say: always leave ‘em wanting _more_ ,” Eggsy said before the sensations all became too much and he came in Harry’s arse, fucking through his climax, aftereffects sparking up the length of his cock.

When Eggsy finally softened, he pulled out slowly, the air cooler on his skin, chasing away the lingering heat of Harry’s body. The scrape of the silk knickers on this oversensitive cock made him wince.

Harry was tense again, his body all stiff lines, fingers pinching the edges of the desk until his knuckles were a bloodless white. Eggsy reached around and cupped his still painfully hard cock through his knickers, producing a hiss. “Eggsy….” he pleaded.

“Twenty minutes. Not bad.” Eggsy tried to clean himself off as best he could with his handkerchief before tucking himself back in and straightening himself out. His suit was a bit wrinkled, but nothing too incriminating that couldn’t be explained away by his admittedly usual carelessness. “Enough time to calm down, grab a sandwich, methinks.”

He took pity on Harry and helped him pull his knickers up, admiring the dark spreading stain from Eggsy’s leaking come matching the stain on his front from his leaking cock, then drew him upright up so he could pull up his trousers, careful not to catch Harry’s stiff cock in the fly.

When he was done, Eggsy stood back and assessed the thoroughly satisfactory results: wrinkled, dishevelled clothes, flushed cheeks, hair fallen out of its styling into sweaty, straggly strands, glazed eyes, reeking of sex and, of course, the obvious tent of his trousers.

All capped off by the thoroughly frustrated expression etched across Harry’s features as he glared back at him.

He never looked more gorgeous. Eggsy leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, dulling the annoyance in his gaze.

“There’s more where that came from, you know,” Eggsy said with his best shit-eating grin while patting Harry’s chest. “But after the meeting. Duty calls and all.”

 

_____

 

This time around, Harry was considerably less focused than before, constantly shifting, restless, looking for all the world like a man uncomfortable in his own skin. His face was still flushed, his legs were kept crossed. His gaze kept sliding elsewhere other than Merlin’s very detailed presentation slides.

It sure made the afternoon session a fuck load more interesting. By contrast, Eggsy was the picture of perfect studiousness.

“Galahad?” Merlin prompted after not receiving an expected answer to a question he had asked.

“I…” Harry blinked several times, shaking himself out of his stupour before regarding Merlin guiltily.

Merlin dropped his arms. “Alright, what the fuck is going on now?”

Harry’s expression turned hunted.

Finally Merlin took in Harry’s appearance with a gimlet eye, clearly not liking what it was adding up to. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I can see you two,” and he included Eggsy in his dark scowl, “are going to be absolutely useless today. You’re all dismissed. Get out of my sight and return tomorrow when you’re ready to focus. ”

“Much appreciated.”

“Yes, Merlin, sorry Merlin.”

They left without being able to look anyone else in the eye and it was mutually unspoken that they were to head straight home, walking side by side down the halls, sitting in the back of the taxi, not looking at but fully aware of the coiling tension.

Eggsy barely got through the front door and greeted JB before Harry slammed it shut and shoved Eggsy against it, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue, while rubbing up against him like a cat in heat before pulling back just enough to growl, “You’re going to fuck me right now, you little tart, or I swear to God I’m going to set all your Adidas jackets on fire.”

“What was that about it being just the once?”

“Shut up, Eggsy,” Harry said, and proceeded to wield all of his not inconsiderable skills in tearing the clothes off his body.

Not that Eggsy didn’t give as good as he got, aiding Harry in shedding his jacket and tie, pulling his shirt apart until the buttons popped off and scattered in different directions, sending JB skittering away from the raining projectiles.

They ended up in a haphazard cyclone of clothes from the door to couch. Eggsy’s shirt hung off his arms. He still had on one shoe and sock, his trousers and boxers pooled at the one ankle, but Harry was left in nothing but those glorious, now thoroughly dirtied knickers, roughly fisting Eggsy’s cock with lubricant he’d sourced from God knows where. Harry had always been bewilderingly resourceful when sufficiently motivated.

Eggsy pushed him against the cushions of the couch and nearly fell on top of him when Harry dragged him down with him. Too much impatience led Eggsy to simply yank enough of the fabric to one side, line up, and shove right in.

It’s an easy glide from earlier, fucking into Harry through his own come. Harry moaned wantonly, wrapping his long legs around Eggsy’s waist to trap him in so close, Eggsy could only make short, sharp little thrusts, Harry pushing back against him in counterpoint.

This time when Harry dragged Eggsy’s hand to his cock, Eggsy cupped him through the sodden knickers, letting him grind his teeth as he shamelessly rubbed off against Eggsy’s palm.

It’s maddening. It’s not enough for either of them, so Harry covered Eggsy’s hand with his own and increased the pressure, pressing Eggsy’s fingers together to squeeze him while he slackened the grip around his waist just enough for Eggsy to change the angle and fuck him good and proper, relishing all the uninhibited noises bubbling up from Harry’s lips.

“Oh, fuck, _fuck_.” Harry’s head fell back against the top of the couch, the gleaming line of his throat exposed and arched towards the ceiling, so tantalising that Eggsy had to lean forward to scrape his teeth over it, burying his lips into Harry’s neck to taste the salt of his skin as the pace of their fucking sped up.

Harry came first, tightening around Eggsy and re-soaking the material beneath their hands as Eggsy fucked him through it, only pulling out at the last second to furiously stroke himself until he was filthily covering Harry’s knickers and stomach with white splatters of come.

When his climax started to ebb, he practically collapsed on top of Harry, uncaring of how disgusting they both were, simply content to listen to the gradually calming beat of Harry’s heart as his chest sank back into a more sedate rise and fall. Harry’s arms came up to circle around him in a loose, comfortable embrace. They cuddled. It’s fucking nice, for a bit.

The serene afterglow only lasted for so long, though. It was starting to get cold. Their come and sweat were growing tacky. The ache was settling in from remaining in the actually incredibly uncomfortable positions they had wedged themselves into.

Eggsy propped himself up to gaze down at Harry with what was probably a dosy smile on his face. Harry didn’t even look silly in his soiled knickers. He looked _great_. Lean and relaxed. Satiated. Eggsy couldn’t help but run his fingers over them once more in admiration.

Harry’s own expression was soft with tenderness. He lifted a hand to cup Eggsy’s cheek. Eggsy appreciated that it was the relatively cleaner one.

“I’m still annoyed,” was Harry’s first post-coital words, ever the romantic.

“Oi, looked like you enjoyed yourself well enough,” Eggsy said, affronted.

“Not at you,” Harry huffed. “The fact that you can win at fucking Scrabble with a word like _smize_.”

Eggsy started laughing, giving silent thanks at the altar of Tyra. “Hey, that’s the OED in the twenty-first century, love. You can take your _supercilious_ and _quixotic_. I’ll have my _smize_.”

In revenge, and with another breath-stealing show of his physical competence, Harry flipped them over handily before Eggsy could even blink, staring down at him smugly. “There are many things I believe in staying abreast of, darling, but I promise you, _smize_ will never be one of them.”

“Well you can try your luck again with your old-timey words, old man,” Eggsy dared. “There’s a pair of garters that would look smashing on them gams of yours.”

Harry remained quiet in consternation for several moments before employing a choice antiquated word. “ _Fucking_ OED.”

This fucking man. Would wear knickers all day to honour a bet but couldn’t accept the ridiculous linguistic mutations of modern, reality show-loving society.

“Don’t worry, darling. You’re still my best old man,” Eggsy assured before deciding they could both suffer some more grumpy kisses and gummy cuddles for just a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think _smize_ has made it to the OED yet. Just give it time, though, alright?


End file.
